Stories that you confided to us
I am from Cherkasy region. I came here when there was still a lively village here. We used to have farms, we used to have everything here. I am a single mother in a large family. I have three children. My daughter studies at a technical school. My sons go to school. I used to work in a sewing workshop as a seamstress, a sewer. But what kind of jobs do we have here in the village? I worked as a cleaner in the office, I washed the floors. There is no work here as such.
I keep two cows, two calves, a pig and some poultry. This is how we survive. When the state paid us some social allowance, I received some payments as a single mother and some childcare money. For now, that has been cancelled, but we need some income. And what sort of income can we get? I have no income because I do not work anywhere. It’s very hard to be without job. I need to raise my children. There is no help from anyone.
I have no parents, they died. I was 20 years old, I survived on my own. I survived as best as I could. I had nowhere to run to.
We had some shelling. Where shall I run? We just stood close to the wall... This is how we survive, if only they did not shell. We will do our best and hold on. If only they could stop shelling. It is very scary when shelling rages.
В 2015 году, перед Новым годом, мы в окно смотрели – над нами все летело. «Град», «Ураган». Ужас, очень страшно было. Самый младший, он же еще маленький, очень боялся. Очень страшно было. В этом году, в 2016-ом, не было таких обстрелов страшных у нас.
We are the “grey zone” and so we are not entitled to anything anywhere as we were told. IDPs get something in Volnovakha.
If we go there and ask for something – you are a buffer zone, you are not entitled to, not eligible. We are thankful to Rinat Akhmetov. He gives us help and we can survive.
When my daughter was finishing her 9th form of school here, there was no schooling in September and in October. They asked parents not to take their children to school because of shelling. So, I had to send her to Berdyansk, although she was just a ninth-grader there. Well, now she is a second-year student at Berdyansk Technical School of Economics. She does not come home quite often. It would be expensive because the ticket price is 160 hryvnias one way. How can we go? So, I pass her a bag by bus.
I really miss [my daughter]. We call each other, and she says: ‘Mom, I really want to go home already.’ ‘Daughter, how are you?’ When there was shellfire in 2015, she did not come. ‘Daughter, if you come, how can we send you back then? How shall we send you? Do not come. At least you will stay where it is calm and quiet.’ I really miss her and every day she says: ‘Mom, I want to go home.’ The boys miss her very much too, you know! ‘Mom, when will Yana come?’
We dream about peace, sure thing. Maybe the village could come back to life a little bit. The children would resume schooling then.
We have 24 children at school. Now, the school is in the process of closing down. They will be going to Andriyivka school. This is three kilometres of travel one way. The children will have to walk this distance every day. If a school bus is not provided, then I don’t know how we are going to attend that school.
My sons help me a lot. They are my support, my foothold, and I live for them. We survive for the sake of the children. I don’t know about others, but for me my children are everything. I live for them.
When quoting a story, a reference to the source – the Museum of Civilian Voices of the Rinat Akhmetov Foundation – is mandatory, as follows:
The Museum of Civilian Voices of the Rinat Akhmetov Foundation https://civilvoicesmuseum.org/
